Lord Arthur glanced at Catherine and appeared to come to a decision. "May as well tell it all. Time to heal." He took a deep breath. Catherine saw Will and the marquess exchange glances.
Lord Arthur went on without noticing the others. "Mary had a child, of course, and wasn't married. She ran to Scotland when she knew she had conceived. She ran before I could stop her. It took me five years to find her, another four to set myself up to support her and Catherine, and a few more years to convince her. Would have stayed in Scotland, but all I had to offer, Songbird Cottage, lay right next to Eversham Hall. She hated coming back, but Emery let us be. Mary learned to love it."
Will spoke into the awkward silence, asking what they all wondered. "Lord Arthur, are you Catherine's natural father?" Catherine's heart cracked a little. She had wondered that very question much of her life. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, however, much less to find out in front of others.
Lord Arthur gave Catherine a look that widened the crack. "No. I wish I were. Emery forced Mary, the summer she turned sixteen."
The duchess gave a little cry. Catherine sank back into the settee. When Will came to sit next to her, she hardly noticed. Her attention belonged entirely to her father.
"Emery knew I loved Mary. He knew I planned to marry her. He did it to hurt me, but he almost destroyed her. M'father beat him when he found out what Emery did, but both of them wanted Mary gone. Wanted no shame on the Wheatly name, as if hiding her would cover what my brother did."
Catherine could not speak. When Will took her hand, she clung to his. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and saw Randy looking at Freddy as if asking for explanation. She had forgotten the boys were there. So, apparently had Lord Arthur.
All three boys had expressions filled with hurt and confusion. Concern for the boys brought Catherine out of her stupor. The boys obviously struggled to piece together what they had just heard. Someone would have to give them blunt explanations she would rather they never had to hear. She glanced up at Will and saw the same concern in his eyes when he looked at his nephew.
Charles broke the thick silence. He seized on a boy's simplest issue. "Does that mean Cath is my sister?"
"But she's our sister," Freddy insisted.
"We'll need some time to sort this out, but I think you're both right," She managed to sound reassuring.
"Interesting!" Charles exclaimed. "Having a sister will be good, won't it?"
The adults laughed nervously and assured him that it would be.
Sylvia rose and bustled to the bell pull. "I think we need refreshments," she said, with a tight smile. Catherine could see that her hands shook. As sick as Catherine felt about what her own mother endured, she regretted that Sylvia had to go through yet more pain over the behavior of her despicable husband.
How on earth will I ever face her again? How can I face any of them?
"I don't think I can manage food," Catherine said, rising. "You will understand I've had a shock, and I feel unwell. I'll bid you good night." She spoke rapidly and tried not to run out the door.
Will caught her as she reached the doorway. "Catherine, I know this is a shock, but isn't it better to know?"
She nodded, fighting tears and trying to tug free.
"We'll manage this fine. When we're married, it won't matter in the slightest."
Married? Merciful angels! She pulled free then and ran. She ran like her life depended on it. Perhaps it did.
"I thought I might find you here." Glenaire spoke as he sank into a leather chair in Eversham Hall's study, a male bastion of dark leather, lingering cigar smoke, and unread books.
Will grunted and drained another glass of brandy. He reached for the bottle and found it empty. "Ring for another one. There's a good fellow."
"Rather rushed your fences back there."
"I made a mull of it. Tomorrow, I have to go back to the beginning and court her all over again. She never even opened her gift."
"What was it?"
"Silk gloves, useless on a farm. I meant to tell her there's more to life than Songbird. That probably wouldn't have gone well, either."
"Did you follow her?"
"To her room? What do you take me for? The lady wanted to be alone."
"Did you at least tell her you love her?"
Will choked. "The Marble Marquess suggests sweet words of love to court a lady? I thought you believed love matches disgrace the participants and taint noble families with weakness."
